Elizabeth Hovde: The misunderstood Joey Gibson

"We're here to talk to students," Joey Gibson told me Tuesday before his Patriot Prayer rally at Washington State University Vancouver. And that's exactly what he did.

For two hours, I watched challenging, inquisitive, respectful conversations happening on the campus plaza between people of different political persuasions. Instead of the violence predicted, Gibson brought something we need more of: talk that leads to increased understanding about opposing thoughts and the people behind them. It was the kind of conversation that helps people find common ground. (Disclosure: I'm a WSUV adjunct professor who had a lot of interest in seeing how things went down on campus.)

There was zero violence at the rally, as no groups showed up to offer it. Just in case, 15 Clark County sheriff's deputies were there alongside campus police. I saw a Washington State Patrol trooper, as well. The deputies I spoke with before the rally were comfortable with the situation and told me they felt very supported in their law-keeping efforts. "That's why we work over here," one Clark County deputy said.

Contrast that with what has occurred at recent protests in Portland. The violence there prompted Daryl Turner, the president of the Portland police union, to call on Portland City Council members "to quit sitting on their hands," decry violence, hold people accountable and "support our officers when we act to preserve public safety."

Turner also wrote in a recent Facebook post, "Our officers and our community face those who believe they can harass, assault and victimize Portlanders at will with no threat of arrest, indictment or conviction." After discussing the balance needed for protecting free speech and ensuring safety, Turner called the city out for a "culture of enablement" that's partly responsible for putting Portland in national headlines.

Mayor Ted Wheeler and the Portland City Council need to make it clear that Portland's streets are not open for takeovers and violent behavior. Free speech can happen without hijacking other citizens' ability to move about safely.

The Patriot Prayer rallies in Vancouver this week were refreshing and productive, even if not well-attended. At Tuesday's rally, I counted about 100 people, a mix of curious students, supporters, media and the police. That's not surprising. Antifa didn't show. Concerned about students' safety, the university's chancellor and some professors advised students to ignore the speakers and avoid the event. It was left up to individual professors whether to hold class that day, and some canceled.

During the question-and-answer time Gibson facilitated, there was disagreement about Initiative 1639, a gun-control proposal on Washington state's ballot. Some, like the Patriots, think its passage -- and storage guidelines it would require -- would undermine the ability to have guns in homes for self-defense. Supporters of the initiative said that any effort to prevent gun violence should overrule concerns.

Everyone I talked to, however, agreed that the rally itself was tame and respectful. Student Julianna Christian said concern about Patriot Prayer "was blown out of proportion" and much of it biased. She said the warnings and worry made campus "a ghost town."

"The guy who walked up to us and gave us information was super nice," student

Agnes Moldovan told me. "I thought it'd be crazy. But it was just a good conversation."

A.J. Alonzo, a former student of mine who had been in the area of a recent Portland protest, was at the WSU rally. He echoed Union President Turner's concerns about police protection in Portland.

Contrary to what Alonzo had been told to expect, he said he didn't see or hear a message of white supremacy or racism. "Students were asking why there would be white supremacists on campus." He shook his head and exclaimed, "This is a protest about gun rights!" Patriot Prayer, by the way, is led by guys who aren't white, and there wasn't a racist word in the leaders' speeches on Tuesday. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Connecting and having conversations -- even with racists that Gibson says he disagrees with -- is a main practice of Gibson's and one he talked about at length Tuesday. You have a better chance of changing someone's opinion that way, Patriot Prayer leaders argued.

If more regulations aren't the answer to address a violent society, asked one student, what is? In his answer, Gibson sounded like a modern-day prophet. "The answer is spiritual," he said.

Those words echoed his earlier speech. He said that for himself, freedom was second only to God. "The reason I do what I do is I believe in God. I believe in Jesus, and I believe he is the answer to some of the biggest problems that we have in this country."

Gibson didn't look like the harasser and violent bully I've been reading about, even if he attracts white nationalists and violent counter-protesters. I'll keep watching, but I think he's far more unique in this region: Gibson has unpopular thoughts about freedom, guns, abortion and spirituality, and he voices them on a public stage.

Before the rally, students made signs and wrote words like "love" and "unity" in chalk where Gibson would appear. Much of the political activist's talk incorporated that message. He was standing on a lot of common ground.